


Storms

by harrysbun



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, alternative universe, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 17:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysbun/pseuds/harrysbun
Summary: The UK is having the worst storm in history since 1993. Louis hates storms, and Harry loves Louis.





	Storms

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in 2015 and completely forgot about it until now. i miss larry

It started as rain. Normal, everyday rain that occurred in the UK. No one really thought anything of it because, when does it ever not rain.  
Harry kissed Louis' forehead and promised Nando's for lunch at half two, after work and school and a nice relaxed lie-in day with movies and everything.  
It was a Friday, usually a day where Louis stayed at Harry's or vise versa. But, it being the end of the term for Harry and work for Louis, neither really had the time to drive nearly two hours to either London or back to Brighton. So, it was no big deal. Really. Just a little rain.  
-  
The city lights are shining bright into Harry's small little (high-rise) flat and it's something he's really come to enjoy. Living in the country for most his life has really made the view he's got worth the shit flat he lives in and the bloody expensive rent he's got to pay every month just for being directly in the city.  
Rain clings to his large windows as he lays on his sofa bed, reading some book he's read millions of times before like he always does before bed. He knows he should call Louis, like he always requests before he falls asleep; but Harry knows he's already out cold. Always is past eleven- even if he says he's not when he answers the phone, voice groggy and obviously full of sleep.  
Harry checks his phone one last time, making sure he hasn't received a sad face text from his boyfriend, essentially requesting a goodnight call. He hasn't, and he puts the book down, rolling over and falling asleep to the sound of rain hitting his window.  
-  
It's half twelve when Harry is startled awake, a rattling sound of thunder shaking the already rickety floorboards of his flat. The rain's gotten significantly harsher against the windows, so hard it convinces Harry that it's hail. Now, he's only seen hail once, when he and Louis took a trip to America and happened to be in Florida during a monsoon season, but he knows what it is.  
He rolls out of his bed (ish) and pads over to the lamp without a lampshade and flicks it on, immediately seeing a lighting bold strike somewhere in the city. It's beautiful, if he's being honest.  
He rubs at his eyes, goosebumps gathering on his bare skin as more rain harshly hits the windows. He knows he won't be able to sleep for a good while now, the noise too much for him. It's difficult for him to sleep with any sort of too loud noise and light anywhere near his sleeping self. He always has to have Louis shut off the telly, at least until he's snoring.  
Harry flicks on the telly, just because it's all he's got to do right now with his dim little light across the studio flat. More thunder rumbles and Harry looks out the window at just the right time that a lighting bolt strikes.  
A news program is currently interrupting Harry's cartoons, which means it's probably on the other channels as well, so he settles for watching it, the big red subtitle of: Biggest Storm in the UK since 1993, catching his eye.  
_"There's a severe storm happening all throughout London,"_ the Telly announcer says, _"it's the biggest one in a little over twenty-two years. It looks as though it will only pick up through the day, starting in central London and heading both north and south in a span of three hours..."_  
Harry stops listening then because if it's going to head south, and just get even worse, then that means it's going to be in Brighton. And Louis hates storms. Hates anything that isn't sunshine, really which is why he always begs Harry to take him along on his trips to America.  
Harry's phone is in his hand in an instant and immediately rings Louis.  
He doesn't pick up, which is typical because it is half twelve and Louis is quite the heavy sleeper, but it still worries Harry a little bit, more than it should. It's just a storm right?  
Thunder booms again and Harry's sure he's never been out the door so quickly in his life.  
-  
The rain lessons a little bit as Harry leaves London and heads south. It's bloody freezing and Harry's only wearing a tee shirt and some joggers, left in too much of a hurry to really realize that it was pouring out. He doesn't have much petrol, barely enough to make it to Brighton, he knows, but he doesn't care. Ever since they were kids, Lou would always sneak over to his house during storms and even snuck Harry into his in year nine when the power went out. That was the night that they had their first kiss.  
He sends Louis text after text, telling him not to worry, that he's on his way and will be there shortly. He knows he could be over exaggerating, Louis could probably be sleeping peacefully right now and the news was wrong, that the storm is staying central and isn't headed south.  
But as he hears more thunder and sees more lighting, coming from far south, he thinks it's better to be safe than sorry.  
-  
The lobby to Louis' flat building is deserted and the lights are flickering, probably due to the storm outside, but Harry's been here plenty of times to find his way to the lifts and stumble toward Louis' flat door.  
He swears when the lights suddenly go out, the emergency ones at the end of the corridor immediately flicking on as he reaches for the key Louis gave him that is currently on his own key chain that they got in Disney World two years ago.  
It's dark in his flat, except for the street lights that stream in through the large windows. The rain seems to be getting worse, worse than it even was in London and Harry blames the it for the sudden power outage. He reckons that Louis probably left the kitchen and living room light on before bed, he always does, and they would still be on if it wasn't for the storm out.  
He walks easily through the large flat, only tripping over the shoes that are on the floor by the bedroom door. He fixed the creak in the door two weeks ago, when Louis would keep complaining non-stop about how he can concentrate on FIFA when Harry kept entering and reentering the room and the damn door kept creaking. So, naturally Harry fixed it because, anything Louis wants he gets. He's glad he did because he really wouldn't want to wake Louis right now.  
He can see the shape of his small little body on the too large bed in the too large bedroom and he smiles fondly, not being able to help himself. Harry tiptoes over there, toeing off his shoes and putting his keys on the nightstand before he lifts the blankets and cuddles in behind Louis.  
He's freezing when Harry puts an arm around his waist, shaking even and whines high in his throat when Harry pulls him back toward him, to keep him warm. He presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck, just to get him to relax.  
"Who-" Louis suddenly coughs and shifts to look up at Harry. "What are you doing here?" He turns around and nuzzles into his body anyways, despite not knowing why his slumber was disturbed.  
"Wanted to be with you, know how much you hate storms baby," Harry explains gently, rubbing up Louis' back when he whines again.  
"Thought it was a dream," he says. "Had nightmares."  
"It's pretty bad out there."  
"Scary," Louis corrects.  
"Worst one in twenty-two years, the news said," Harry says and Louis' kicks the blankets off them even though he feels freezing.  
"Don't talk about it," he whispers, flinching when thunder claps, loud, throughout the bedroom.  
"Sorry, love. Go back to sleep, I'm here."  
"Wanna watch Family Guy," he whimpers, throwing a leg over Harry's waist.  
"Power's out, babe. In the morning, yeah? Have some episodes on my laptop in my car from the plane ride," Harry tells him softly, knowing how much Louis needs something to watch when he goes to sleep.  
"I can't sleep in silence Haz," he flinches hard when the thunder booms again.  
"'S not silent, listen to the rain," Harry suggests, pressing his lips to Louis' feathery hair. He knows he must have just recently showered because it smells of his shampoo and is just a little damp.  
"Harry," he says sternly, and Harry's known him long enough to know he's pouting.  
"Well just try, Lou, okay?"  
He huffs out a cute sigh and snuggles into Harry, forcefully closing his eyes.  
To Harry, he can't sleep with too much noise, so the rain makes it a little harder to slip into unconsciousness. But then again, he's really tired so it's not the big of an issue.  
It's silent for a long time, and Harry is just about to really go to sleep until Louis groans dramatically, sitting up and glaring down at his boyfriend.  
"I can't, Haz," he whimpers, smacking Harry's chest with the back of his hand when he doesn't get an answer right away. Harry doesn't open his eyes.  
"Babe, it's two in the morning," he tells him. "You were asleep before, fall asleep again."  
"The telly was on," Louis argues.  
"Please, Louis I'm exhausted, I had exams all week."  
Louis sighs again and Harry can feel his body slump for a second before he cuddles back down onto Harry bringing the duvet with him and covering them both.  
"Can you at least like..." he pauses for a long time; so long that if Harry didn't know any better, he'd think he fell asleep.  
"What, baby?" Harry asks, yawning.  
"Sing to me?" Louis asks, so so softly. He nuzzles into his neck as he says it, pressing his lips there just because he can.  
Harry huffs out a sign but sings softly anyways, just because his baby asks.  
-  
Harry wakes to a loud boom of thunder, arms immediately searching for Louis, to cuddle him closer. He frowns when he feels the bed empty and sits up groggily, rubbing at his eyes and interest peaking when he sees dim lights coming from the living room. It's still pitch dark out, the rain still pelting against the large windows, lighting still very evident everywhere but the battery-powered clock reads quarter till four.  
He drags the duvet out with him, the power obviously still out since the heat hasn't kicked in, and is preparing to have to drag Louis back to bed because if the storm does let up, he does have work tomorrow.  
His plan does get put on hold though when he sees Louis, in Harry's shirt that he arrived here in and apparently took off sometime in his slumber and lighting candles all about the living room.  
"What in the world, Lou," Harry groans half-heartedly because even if it is blooming early and freezing, Louis still looks gorgeous in this light and in just Harry's shirt.  
"It hasn't stopped raining and I'm cold and it's too dark in that room," he explains. "And hand me that duvet, please." Harry is then left in just his joggers when Louis rips it from his body and adds it to the large pile of duvets on the floor.  
He has a thin white sheet over the expanse of the sofa and over the coffee table and bookshelf, creating some sort of roof over the pile and pile of duvets and pillows and throw blankets. Harry could probably say there's a mattress under all that white mess, but he can't exactly tell.  
"What is all this?" Harry asks, frowning and still quite sleepy.  
"'S a fort Harlold." Harry rolls his eyes.  
"Obviously. Why?"  
Louis is still lighting all the candles with his fag lighter, shirt riding up and showing off his bare bum when he reaches for the ones on the top shelves. Harry tries to not stare and be polite.  
"Wanna sleep out here, with you," he shrugs, sighing and putting down his lighter as he steps back and looks at his handiwork.  
"How long d'this take you?" Harry yawns.  
"Dunno," he answers, smiling just a little bit and dropping to his knees before crawling under the white sheet and plopping down onto the pile of duvets. He looks stunning, Harry thinks.  
"You're a menace," Harry smirks.  
"Come lay down with me Haz," he says, making grabby hands at him.  
Harry just rolls his eyes fondly and heads over, getting on his knees and making his best effort to get there before Louis tells him he's taking too long.  
"You're ridiculous," he mumbles. Louis just grins like an idiot and kicks his way under one duvet and lifts it for Harry to get under.  
"You love me," he states matter-of-factly.  
Harry's about to say something witty, of course he is, but Louis gasps and leans forward, sticking his bum in Harry's face (though not on purpose, of course not) and reaches for something Harry isn't too focused on.  
Before he can reach out and grab Louis' bum, just because he can, Louis clicks on something and music starts to play.  
Louis is humming along to the old Secondhand Serenade tune when he comes back next to Harry and it's then that Harry sees the old radio, one that holds cassettes and CD's. Harry's pretty sure it's the same one Louis' mum finally got enough money to get him when he turned thirteen. By the time he got it, he knew there was something new out, but never did he complain to his mum. Harry always made him tapes, even before they knew that they were soulmates.  
Louis sighs happily as he nuzzles into Harry's bare chest, throwing his usual leg over his waist, never quite stopping the humming.  
"You could have been asleep if you put as much effort into it as you did this," Harry says matter-of-factly though still jokingly.  
"Harry," Louis whines, looking up at him and pouting.  
"Sorry, love," he sighs and brings a hand to rest on Louis' over his abdomen while rubbing up and down his back.  
"Take these off," Louis suddenly says, using the heel of his foot to attempt to pull down the waistband of his joggers.  
"Don't have any pants on," Harry yawns.  
"Me neither," Harry can tell he's rolled his eyes. "Cmon, I don't like the material."  
Harry groans, over-dramatically as always, but uses one hand to get the joggers to his knees and then kicks them off.  
"Watch your leg," Harry warns, sleep edging in his voice, as Louis goes to put his leg back over his waist.  
"Watch your leg," Louis mocks in a deep voice, tweaking one of Harry's nipples as he puts his leg wherever he wants it, giggling when Harry hisses at the coldness of his leg.  
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think this is a way for you to get me in the mood," Harry quirks an eyebrow at him.  
"Good thing you do know better, Harold," he huffs.  
Harry smiles a little bit because, God he's so in love. He's whipped; so whipped that he's sleeping a fort surrounded by lit candles (very dangerous!) and in the nude, cuddling with his boyfriend who has a very cold leg over his dick.  
"Love you," Louis says on an exhale and Harry still, to this day, doesn't think there's anything better to hear than that. That right there.  
"Come give me a kiss, baby," Harry says, softly because he can see Louis' eyes gradually getting droopier and droopier.  
Louis mumbles something incoherent.  
"Please?" Harry pouts. Louis, who's eyes were closed, opens one and looks up at him and then scowls. Harry thinks he's about to say something, but instead he maneuvers his way on top of Harry and bites Harry's nose gently before setting his lips on his.  
They kiss lazily, sleepily but still heatedly and eventually, Louis sneaks a hand between them and gets a fist around Harry. He groans, low and long at the contact and pulls away to catch his breath.  
"Oh _now_ look at who's not sleeping," Louis teases, sliding his hand up and down, slowly.  
"'S not my fault you seduced me," Harry starts to laugh, but it gets caught in his throat and turns into a low moan when Louis gives a particulary tight squeeze.  
"Yeah? I seduce you?" He smiles, smug.  
"You're so bloody fit," Harry groans and then, in a blink of an eye, he's hovering over Louis, fighting back a smile of his own when he hears Louis giggle, hand still wrapped tight around him.  
"You were tired a minute ago," Louis reminds him, eyes fluttering shut when Harry's lips attach themselves to his throat. Harry hisses when Louis' thumb rubs over his sensitive head.  
"Yeah, before you demanded I take off my clothes and grabbed my dick," he puffs hot air onto Louis' hot skin, hips thrusting into the tight fist around him.  
"You're so fucking hot," Louis whines when he feels the wetness at Harry's tip, leaning up to kiss him messily, wrapping his legs around his waist at the same moment Harry grinds down onto him. "Fuck me."  
"Holy shit, look at you," Harry gasps in awe as he looks down at the beautiful boy on the pile of duvets; hair tousled and dick completely hard and wet and irresistible. "Turn around, baby."  
Louis obeys, arching his back in the most obscene way that Harry loses his breath. He can't help himself as his hand collides with Louis' arse, the sharp smack almost as loud as the thunder and lighting outside. Harry nearly comes when he hears his sweet moan.  
“Please,” Louis whines, pushing his bum into the hands that knead at his arse. He buries his face into the pillow when he feels Harry pull his cheeks apart, keening when the cool air hits him.  
“D’you finger yourself, baby?” Harry asks confusedly when he sees the slight glisten around his pink hole. He can’t help but run his finger over it, dipping in ever so slightly. “Were you expecting me to flip you over and take you, right here?”  
Louis’ face his hot and his dick is so hard as he nods.  
“Yes daddy, I want it so bad,” the word slips out before Louis has any mindset to stop it. They’ve only experimented with this a few time, and each time one of them came before Harry could even stick his dick in, so he feels a little wary about using it now. But, the harsh smack that Louis gets on his arse pushes all his doubt away in an instant.  
“You’re so naughty, baby,” Harry murmurs hotly into his ear, lips wet against him as he grinds into his slick bum, letting the tip of his dick catch on the rim. “You want daddy to fuck you?”  
It sounds so much hotter coming from Harry that Louis nearly faints. He shoves back into him, nodding profusely as he reaches a hand underneath him to fist at his wet dick.  
“Yes daddy, please,” he’s on the verge of tears and lets out a choked sob when Harry tugs his hand away from himself and gathers the both of his little hands into his big one and holds them behind his back.  
“Anything for you, baby,” he says sweetly, kissing and sucking at the soft skin of his shoulder. “No touching, though. Want you to come just from my dick. Can you do that, love?”  
Louis is nodding before he even finishes the question, babbling something even he can’t understand he feels Harry start to push in. Louis winces slightly, his dainty fingers that he was preparing with early not even slightly comparing the large size of Harry. But, he welcomes the pain, dick twitching when he hears Harry’s gasp as soon as he’s fully in.  
“So tight, honey. So fucking tight, oh my God,” he lays his entire weight on Louis, hand still holding Louis’ own to the bottom of his spine. “You feel so good for daddy, baby. Never felt anything as sweet as you.”  
He hasn’t moved yet, just stayed stationary inside as he lets Louis adjust. Louis just grows impatient.  
“C’mon daddy, please,” he whines, shoving back on his dick and whining when he does. “Hard. I want it hard.”  
Harry groans at his words, lifting himself off his back and settling more comfortably on his knees as he looks at the beautiful sight of him and Louis connecting in the most intimate way. His heart could burst.  
“Anything you want, love,” he whispers as he begins to move; pulling his dick out slowly, inch by inch before shoving it back in, harshly. Louis yelps.  
“Oh fuck, just like that,” he stuffs his face into the pillow, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Harry does it again.  
“Yeah, love, you like it? This how you want it?” He spanks his arse again as he continues his thrusts, mesmerised by the way it glows red and jiggles. There’s nothing more beautiful.  
“Y-yes daddy, don’t stop, please don’t- oh,” Louis moans when Harry uses his free hand to yank him up by his hair, leaving wet kisses on his neck as Louis lays his head against Harry’s shoulder.  
“You’re so fucking hot, Lou,” Harry breathes, sliding his hand down Louis’ chest and pinching a nipple before he softly grazes the back of his knuckles along his dick.  
“Haz,” Louis whines, dick twitching. Harry’s rhythm hasn’t faltered, and he isn’t sure how much longer he can last.  
“Look at you,” Harry says in wonder, staring down at his hard dick and then back at his beautiful arse. He feels his balls draw up tight, overwhelmed with love; he has no idea how he ever got so lucky. “Daddy’s gonna come baby, do you want me to come?”  
Louis whines, high in his throat.  
“Please come, daddy, come inside me,” Louis feels tears in his eyes as he says it, relishing in the harsh shove Harry gives him into the pillow beneath him as he thrusts in harder, more shallow. He actually sobs when Harry adjusts his angle. “Right there, daddy, fuck. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”  
Harry doesn’t have the time to tell him he won’t before Louis is whining, muscles spasming as he comes, screaming Harry’s name so loudly that he’s sure the people across the hall can hear.  
“Oh fuck, baby, daddy’s coming, I’m gonna come inside you, all inside you, gonna make such a mess- fuck,” and then he comes, fingers tight around his waist as he grunts, riding out the best orgasm he’s had for as long as he can before Louis sniffles beneath him.  
Harry pulls out, admiring the way Louis’ swollen hole leaks only for a moment before he lays to the side, welcoming the small boy who immediately lays on him, running his hands along his soft body.  
“Now I’m sleepy,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s neck, rubbing his wet softening dick into his hipbone. Harry has to will his dick to not get hard again.  
“I love you,” Harry tells him, feeling his own eyes go heavy. Louis giggles, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before letting his eyes close as well.


End file.
